Another Noble HP Fanfic Mockery Indeed
by FuriousYak
Summary: A parody of slash-fiction I have read over the years. Characters out of character, non-canon elements, clumsy, inconsistent over-emphasis of British-ness, contrived situations, and anachronisms abound! And a Mary Sue, why not? Remus/Sirius
1. Cold Shoulder, Hot Topic

Another Noble HP Fanfic Mockery Indeed

A/N: All Harry Potter characters and settings and stuff belong to JK Rowling, the British-isms belong to the British (unless I just make them up) and any resemblance to specific fan fictions (rather than fanfic in general) is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1: Cold Shoulder, Hot Topic

"Bugger!" Marauder-era Sirius slammed the door behind him and threw himself onto his bed. Marauder-era Remus turned in surprise, quickly locking up his diary with a small, heart-shaped key and burying it under a pile of parchment before Sirius could guess who he'd been writing poetry about. The room was a mess. For whatever reason, the room only housed the Marauders, the only male Gryffindors in their grade of any importance. The Marauders were comprised of James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and NOT Peter Pettigrew—certainly not Peter Pettigrew as portrayed by Timothy Spall, that's for sure. Anyway, each of these three Marauders was hotter than the last. James, being certifiably straight, was always over at Lily's, though, so he doesn't really figure into things. Anti-boy-charm on the girls' dormitories, you say? Er…counter hex. That clever boy. There.

"What's the matter, Padfoot?" Remus's warm, brown, feral, sad, wolf-like eyes combed over his friend's hipsterific frame. Sirius had hooked one thumb into his pink-and-black, four-row, pyramid-studded belt from Hot Topic, which brought his skintight black jeans down far enough to reveal a overdefined hipbone, tattooed with a pawprint. _Wait a minute…what?_ Remus blinked a few times and the anachronisms became irrelevant.

"Bleeding bloody buggerific bugger balls!" growled Sirius, and turned away from his devoted companion. He was pissed. Pissed and English. You know, in case you haven't caught on. Remus sighed, walked across the room, and gingerly sat down beside his friend.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't _want_ to, Sirius." He bit his lip with one canine tooth (Heh heh, very nice, me. Smooth.) and took a breath. "Is it…is it—I mean could it possibly be, maybe…well, you know…about a..a…a…a gir—a…a girl?" he asked, casually. Sirius looked flabbergasted.

"What? A girl? No, of course not, stupid. Uhhhh…I mean—no, not a girl."

"Phew!" Remus let out an audible sigh of relief that he hoped Sirius wouldn't notice. Sirius didn't notice.

"Anyway, no, not a girl. Not anything, actually. Exclaiming 'Bugger!' and flinging myself into the room just seemed like a dynamic way to start off the story"

"Story? What story?"

"The story," Sirius began, raising an eyebrow, "of how you and I are going to sneak into town and get ourselves some butterbeer! What do you say? Just you and me, mate!"

_Mate_. The word not only reminded you all that they were still English, but it also made Remus's heart skip a beat.

"Will—will James be coming along, then?"

"James? Ha! He's always with that Lily Evans. Before you know it, they'll be having a son together!"

"And you'll be his godfather!"

"And you'll be his professor!"

"Ha ha ha!"

"Ha ha!"

"Ha."

"Alright then, Rem. Let's go."

"Right. Hey, didn't we used to have another member? Moony, Prongs, Padfoot, Wor—"

"What's that, Rem? It's always been just the three of us?"

"I guess so." Remus pulled on his brown leather trenchcoat and swished out the door after Sirius.


	2. Cold Butterbeer, Hot Breath

Chapter 2: Cold Butterbeer, Hot Breath

"Two butterbeers! On the house!" roared Sirius, emerging from the tunnel directly beneath a corner table in the Three Broomsticks. Remus struggled up after him, hoping no one would find their sudden entrance odd. However, despite the fact that it was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, the bar was very crowded and no one noticed their appearance.

"On the house? Do you even know what that means, Si?"

"Course I do. It means for free." Sirius winked and shot Remus a toothy grin.

"Two butterbeers on the house, lads!" The merry barmaid plunked two bottles on the table and returned to the bar to chat with other merry barmaids.

"O ye of little faith, my werewolf friend!"

"Shut it! Do you want someone to overhear?" Remus looked over one shoulder then the other.

"Oh, don't be such a retar—" Sirius paused and thought. "Don't be daft," Much better. He added, for good measure, "…you git." He took a swig from his butterbeer.

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but overhear that you're a werewolf!"

"Augh!" Remus turned and saw a strange girl seated between Sirius and himself. "Who the blimey are you? Where'd you come from?"

She looked down bashfully, her long blue lashes resting lightly on freckle-spangled cheeks. Her freckles were shaped like stars. Then she brushed a blood-red lock of hair behind one delicate, shell-like ear and looked up at Remus. Her eyes were yellow, like a wolf's eyes, but with an opalescent shine. "I'm Kallima Licos. It's Greek for 'beautiful wolf'. My parents found it using Google. I'm half werewolf."

"Google? Where the devil did you come from?" Remus inched away from her, hoping Sirius wouldn't finish draining his butterbeer in time to spot her and fall in love. Kallima giggled.

"I came out from the tunnel under the table, silly!" she suddenly looked very serious. "And the future. But I just _had_ to see you two together, back when you were young and hot and _alive_, and….Oh, and don't worry! I don't want to steal him away. I just want to sit here and..." she sighed happily. "…_watch_."

Sirius slammed down the bottle at last and caught his breath. "That was good! Oi, who're you?"

"Kallima. Kallima Licos. I'm--" But she didn't get to finish her statement, because Sirius was stuffing her back down the tunnel.

"Nice to meet you Kall, but I'm afraid you don't have an invitation and you'll have to go, right?"

"Alright, then! It's fine, I don't want to be in the way or anything!" Her voice was slightly muffled under the rough wooden table, though it still sparkled like clear glacial spring water. "After this, maybe you guys would like to come clothes shopping with me? Make some pithy one-liners about other people's outfits? Flatter me in a non-threatening manner? It'd be ever so much fu--" Sirius pushed her deeper underground with the sole of his hot pink converse and turned towards Remus.

"So," Sirius placed a hand on Remus's shoulder. "What's the matter, Moony?"

"Oh, nothing, really, Paddy." Remus looked evasive. He finished off the last dregs of his butterbeer, which was immediately replaced with another, also on the house. He finished off that one, too. "Remember that promise we made when we were kids? How we'd always be together forever?"

"What? We didn't know each other as kids, Remus."

"Don't you remember when we were out catching fireflies in the warm summery evening air, and we both caught the same firefly at the same time, your hands catching mine and mine yours, and we looked into one another's eyes and you laughed and said, 'I guess this means we're going to be together forever' and then we promised that we would be?"

"It's a cute story, but no. We met at Hogwarts, Rem."

"I guess you're probably right. It's probably just the butterbeer getting to me," He turned heavy eyes towards Sirius, and was surprised to find Sirius's face inches from his own.

"You were writing something when I burst into the room at the beginning of the story," Sirius's breath was hot, like a hot English hairdryer without the loud whirring noise. It smelled like butterbeer, and probably like dog breath, but Remus didn't notice. He gulped nervously and Sirius continued, "It's been a long time since you let me read your poetry, mate. And the heart-shaped lock to your diary has a charm on it that I just can't figure out. Why is that?"

"Well—I—I mean to say, Padfoot, really, well—to be quite succinct—well, if not succinct then at the very least frank about the matter…the truth is…"

"_Oh em geeeee!_" Kallima just couldn't stand it any longer! However, the metaphorical spell was temporarily broken, and Sirius and Remus turned quickly away from one another and coughed deep masculine coughs.

"Get out of here, Kalli!" they kicked at her and she retreated into the hole.

"Fine, fine! I'll go! I'll just pop over into the more distant past and have a look at what Dumbly and Grindly are up to for a bit. But I'll be ba-ack." She winked and was gone.

"Merlin's ghost! It's almost supper! We'd better be off as well, Padfoot!" Sirius, brushing Kallima's pink-and-teal glitter from his shoes and trouser-legs nodded in agreement. A few minutes later, and they were back in Hogwarts.


	3. Cold Pudding, Hot Pudding

Chapter 3: Cold Pudding, Hot Pudding

Sirius and Remus made it to the Great Hall just in time to hear the tables suddenly creak under the weight of the meal: Black pudding, white pudding, red pudding, scotch eggs, roly-poly pudding, bangers-and-mash, Yorkshire pudding, fish and chips, figgy pudding, steak-and-kidney pie, blood pudding, bubble-and-squeak, jellied eels, and, for pudding, banoffee pie. There was more, of course, but you get the idea. Sirius ate ravenously, while Remus half-heartedly pushed a piece of steak-and-kidney pie around his plate. "What's wrong, mate? You've hardly touched your black pudding!"

"Oh, I don't know. I guess I just don't have an appetite." Remus stabbed a chunk of the black pudding with his fork, considered it, and put it back down. He couldn't even finish his goblet of thick delicious pumpkin juice without feeling queasy. Maybe he was just sick. Or maybe…lovesick? No, it couldn't be. But he gazed at Sirius, who was snarfling up his third helping of shepherd's pie. He looked pretty ridiculous. It had to be something else. Sirius abruptly looked up from his plate, gravy and peas dripping from his nose and chin. He looked Remus in the eyes. Remus stared into his. They stared at one another, without speaking, for many long moments. Sirius seemed speechless…breathless…blue in the face?

"Auck…ak…" Sirius squeaked weakly, putting his hands to his throat.

"Oh my god, you're choking!" Remus shrieked, jumping from his seat. Sirius nodded rapidly. "Uh, uh, Expelli—no, that's not it—dislodgimatrus! No, that's not the one—" Remus couldn't recall the right spell! Then he remembered his Muggle Studies class and leapt into action, gripping his friend from behind in a bear-hug. After many hard thrusts with his fists to Sirius's sternum, a piece of steak flew out of Sirius's mouth and onto his plate. They stood there for a minute, catching their breaths, without stepping apart. Sirius was so warm…Remus suddenly noticed that the Great Hall was almost silent. Every face in the room was turned towards the pair, some with forks half-lifted towards their mouths. Dumbledore chuckled, a twinkle in his eye, and broke the silence,

"An admirable display of muggle lifesaving techniques, Lupin! Twelve points to Gryffindor! Ah, banoffee pie! My favorite!" With that, everyone returned to their plates and it was as if nothing had happened at all. Remus realized that his hands had somehow migrated to Sirius's hips. He quickly sat down, shooting a sheepish glance at his friend. Sirius was already ploughing into his fourth helping of shepherd's pie, but he turned and shot a grin at Remus.

"Thanks, mate."

"No—no problem…." Remus sat back down, "…mate."

"Faggots?" came a voice from behind them.

"What? What? What? What? I mean--What? What did you say?" Remus stammered, whipping around to see who had spoken. "Oh, it's you, Severus." A young Severus Snape stood behing the duo, holding a plate of the British sausage delicacy known as faggots.

"I just thought you boys might want some. There's not much demand for faggots at the _Slytherin_ table." Severus smirked, and brushed his long black bangs back from a dark, guylinered eye. He was as gaunt and as stylish as Sirius, but with a darker bent. A black wizard-edition iPod nano shimmered in its hip-clip, and his black-and-grey-striped shirt ended right at his narrow white wrists. A black-lacquered cross dangled about his neck. His anachronisms, like all others, were completely irrelevant.

"Well I can see why you came over here, then, Sev." Sirius didn't even dignify Snape with a look, though he did snatch the plate of faggots from him. Remus laughed, blushing.

"Well! I never!" Snape turned sharply on one heel of his clunky chain-and-zipper boots and stalked back to the Slytherin table to have a good cry. As his sobs melded with the clatter and chatter of the Great Hall, Remus basked in the secondhand burn of Sirius's comeback. That was his Siri—Errr, rather…that was Sirius for you! Not _his_ Sirius. Right.

It looked like people were beginning to clear out. 'C'mon Sirius,' Remus urged. 'It's time to go back to our room"

"But I shtill haven't fimished my lasht banoffee pie," mumbled Sirius, with puppy-dog eyes. Sighing, Remus grabbed Sirius's wrist and outright dragged him back towards the Gryffindor commons.


	4. Cold Dribble, Hot Hearths

Chapter 4: Cold Saliva, Hot Hearths

Remus and Sirius were curled up on an enormous leather sofa, watching a roaring fire. It was so peaceful, and Remus, staring blankly into the flames, felt Sirius nod off onto his right shoulder. The effect was electric. He sat, frozen, a lump in his throat, praying that the moment could last forever.

It couldn't.

"Bloody hell, that does it, I'm changing stations." James, seated on Remus's other side, aimed his wand at the television set, and switched from _Hearths Of England, with Phyllis MacPotts_ to an old episode of _Which Witch?_. "I mean, blimey, the first two seasons were alright, I guess, but come on! Hell, look—it bored Sirius to death. Poor old Padfoot! Wake up!" He leaned across Remus and punched Sirius in the arm, waking him instantly. Sirius punched James right back, confused.

"What was that for?"

"To wake you up! You were _drooling_ all over Remus's sweater vest, wasn't he, Moony?" Remus, in response, chuckled weakly and glanced at his shoulder. Oh. Sirius had drooled quite a lot, actually. "Anyway, bleedin' Wizard Telly's got nothing worth watching. Look at this," With a flick of his wand, he surfed through the channels. "_Goblin Eye for the Wizard Guy_, last season's _Wizard Idol_, some Quidditch match from Guatemala or something, _Cooking Magic_, _Catch that Toad_…."

"_Catch that Toad_?" Sirius interjected.

"Some kid's show, I don't know. Eh, I'm going with _Goblin Eye for the Wizard Guy_." James waved his wand and it was so.

"But you're straight!" Remus blurted. James looked baffled.

"Yes?" he asked, slowly.

"Well…uh…" His statement didn't really make any sense. Goblins weren't gay. And James was straight, but so was Remus…wasn't he? Sirius jumped up on the coffee table and yelled, breaking the awkward pause.

"Hey, look, Prongs! Your bird's back from Astrology!"

"I'll bird _you_, Sirius!" laughed Lily.

"Whatever the hell that means!" Sirius yelled back, sitting himself down onto Remus's lap. "I'm taken already anyway, aren't I, Remmy?" Remus let out a frightened yelp and blushed.

"I'm taken too, my love!" cried James, sitting on Sirius's lap with a flourish. "So sorry, Lily. You broke my heart when you went to Astrology, but I've moved on! Haven't I, boys?" Sirius guffawed, and Remus yelped again, more weakly than before.

"Come on, lover-boy," Lily rolled her eyes and grabbed James by the ear, dragging him up the tower stairs and out of sight.

"Farewell, my loves! It was nice while it lasted, but my heart belongs to--"A door slammed, and Remus was left alone under Sirius. A goblin was throwing some wizard's old, outdated clothes into a bin, while another goblin sneered at the man's checkbook and Tupperware of receipts.

"You know," said Sirius, wrapping his arms around Remus's neck, "those goblins do come off as a bit gay. At least that one does." The camera had zoomed in on the clothes-throwing goblin, who was gagging at a pair of corduroy trousers he had just unearthed from a dresser. "Not that there's anything wrong with that." he breathed into Remus's ear. Remus wasn't sure how to react, so he didn't, staring straight at the Wizard Telly. "A silver sickle for your thoughts, Moony." His lips were almost touching Remus's ear, when suddenly—

"You guys," sighed Kallima, "are _too much_!" Remus and Sirius looked up in shock to find Kallima hovering upside down a few feet above them, taking a picture of the pair with her cellphone. Sirius slid off Remus and back onto the couch, looking dully up at Kallima . Remus's heart took several moments to slow down to its normal pace, but once it did he glared up at Kallima, livid. He snarled,

"Who _are_ you?! What the hell are you doing here? What is your _deal_?!"

Kallima lowered herself to the couch between Remus and Sirius, flipping rightside up as she did so. She placed an arm around each of the young men and sighed a delicate sigh.

"I guess it is a bit unfair, popping in on you like this, when all you really know about me is my name, its meaning, the fact that I can hover and travel at will though time, that I am half-werewolf and uniquely beautiful, whilst _I _know absolutely _everything_ about _you_ two," she smiled a sharp little smile, her garnet-red rips parting to reveal ivory teeth with adorably pronounced canines. Her breath smelled like peach Snapple, if peach Snapple were manufactured and bottled in Heaven, but her feminine wiles had no effect on the boys. She knew this, and she _loved_ it. Finally, she continued. "Everything. But I suppose you two have the right to know a little more about me, seeing as we're growing to be so close. So, the 'works' it is! First thing you should know is that I am a very talented telepath, alright? Now then, this might feel a bit weird…" She looked towards the fourth wall (the wall to their left, for the record) and they followed her gaze. The scene got all wibbly, a harp played, and--all at once—both the trio and you readers were treated to a clip show.

In the next chapter, that is.


	5. Cold Moors, Hot NonCanon Snogging

(A/N: This chapter was written for the fic by my fan and brother, and I post it with his enthusiastic permission! He has no account, he wrote this up for fun, and I say it's good so in it goes. Enjoy!)

Chapter 5: A Little about Kallima Licos

(Or, for the Sake of Consistency, "Cold Moors, Hot Non-Canon Snogging")

The picture wibbled into view; the harp music faded out.

Kallima Licos was unstuck in time.

It happened quite by accident. Kallima's parents worked for the department of mysteries. A few months after their beautiful daughter was born (such a beautiful baby!) they took her to work to show her off.

Everyone was so happy and so proud to see her. Little Kallima, with her blood red shock of hair and big golden eyes, was too young to understand what was going on. She laughed at the little baby brains frolicking in the fish tank, and cried when she saw the big scary archway to nowhere, but most of all, she delighted at watching the little bird in the bell jar that would hatch from its egg, then shrink back down again.

Kallima wanted to fly like that too! Without knowing she wasn't supposed to be able to, she began to float up out of her stroller!

"She's a natural!" exclaimed the started wizards.

"She's a prodigy!"

"She's heading over towards that cauldron! ...So gracefully!"

Completely unaware of the danger she was in, Little Kallima had drifted ever so gracefully, like a beautiful, baby-shaped balloon, right directly over a great brass cauldron full of magic Time-Turner sand!

Everyone stared in silent shock at little baby Kallima.

Somebody sneezed.

The noise startled everyone in the room, including baby Kallima. Her concentration broken, she fell straight down and landed in the sand with an epic "Pouf!"

The alarmed voices of her parents and the gathered research wizards running to rescue her grew faint in Kallima's ears, and the world faded around her. She slept, and dreamed of falling through a dark tunnel filled with different kinds of clocks…

She traveled to the time before the beginning of the universe. With her soft, pouting lips, she gave the pea-sized infant universe the gentlest of kisses before flitting off again through time.

The scene changed. Now Kallima Licos was eleven years old, at the sorting ceremony. Harry Potter had just been called and sorted into Gryffindor, so if anybody had been reading a story about him, it would not have been mentioned that she was sorted next. But she was! Even though she made all kinds of friends on the train, the really actually very terrifying sorting hat with a mean voice shook the confidence she had recently gained right out of her.

The hat was cold and made her ears pop when it was set down on her head. The sounds of the great hall suddenly became muffled, and in place of their voices, a new voice began to speak to her, Son of Sam style, except instead of telling her to kill McGonagall, it said…

"Hmmm, very interesting, yess, you are an interesting girl indeed. Talented…and Brave. Good Gryffindor material, but powerfully wise! Hmm. Ravencalw perhaps? Ahh… but this girl is also a hard worker…. Easily someone who could fit in with Hufflepuff… But craftier than any Slytherin I have seen in a long time!"

Kallima just squoze her eyes shut and thought--or whispered out loud if it were a movie--_Please put me someplace where I will have friends!_

"Friends eh….? Well I have already taken one request today. That Potter boy was a definite, dyed in the wool Slytherin… I suppose it wouldn't be fair if I did a favor for him and not you…"

And with that, the sound came back and the Sorting Hat proclaimed "Because she is a friend to all, and demonstrates so well the traits beloved by each of the Hogwarts founders, Kallima Licos shall be free to live amongst all the houses equally as she bally-well pleases!"

"Cholly Oliver, PIP PIP!" cheered the confused Hogwartians.

Fade to white.

With a puff of glitter, Kallima had appeared on a dark and misty moor; in the distance a wolf howled balefully at the moon.

_This was the place…_ Kallima thought to herself. _This is where my father met the werewolf…_

It was on this fateful day that her father was mauled by a werewolf and was cursed with his accursed state. Though he was able to keep it secret, even to the point where he was able to receive clearance to the department of mysteries and meet her mother, the curse would eventually destroy his career and claim his very life. A tragedy of her past that Kallima could no longer bear, Kallima vowed to prevent the incident and save her father's life.

"Wh- Who's there?" came a voice through the mist. It was the voice of her father, maybe a year or two older than her.

"Oh, just me! Don't be scared!"

"Who is me?"

Kallima had to think fast. "Um, me is… uh.. Lilac… Lilac Oaksmil!"

"That's a rather strange name" came the voice of her father, now coming into view. He cut a dashing silhouette. "But I guess anybody named Victimus Licos shouldn't make jokes about names wot?"

A wolf howled again in the distance. Kallima's heart pounded… Time was running out.

"You're not safe here, there are werewolves about these parts!"

"A werewolf? Don't be daft! There's never been a werewolf reported in Mistlemoor!"

"Trust me, there is at least one."

"How could there be? A werewolf is a man most of the month, and nobody I know could possibly be a werewolf…"

"Isn't there anybody new in town? Somebody you don't know?"

"Not that I can think of, there's never been anybody new around here… except you…"

"Nobody except… me?"

Panic rose within Kallima… "Nobody but me? That's impossible… could I be--"

Before she could finish her sentence, the dark clouds that had been concealing the full moon parted, basking Kallima in its glow…

The cries of two wolves echoed across the moors… and then three…

Another scene wibbled into view.

Kallima was sixteen, and had just accidentally walked in on Ron and Neville snogging in the trophy room.

"Bloody elf!" exclaimed the startled Kallima, emphasizing simultaneously her Britishness and the fact that she was a witch.

Kallima slammed the door shut behind her. Her heart was pounding. Her face was hot with shame. But underneath the shame was a different kind of heat and a different flavor of shame.

Something about what she saw was… exciting to her. She had felt this way before sometimes, when she looked at a cute boy like Draco… or Oliver Wood… but this feeling was stronger. Not only that, it didn't make her feel scared and self-conscious, like she did when boys inevitably stared at her. Kallima tried to dismiss it, but already she was drawn back to the image of Ron and Neville. She needed to know more…much more.

The scene wibbled one last time and faded back into the Gryffindor common room, where Kallima was seated between Sirius and Remus.

"Well?" she asked.


End file.
